


Drunk on Him

by butterflyslinky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For me, he was an obsession, a burning obsession, one that I could never let go of. I could never take my eyes off him, never not listen to anything he was saying. I followed him anywhere I could, agreed with everything he said, went along with all his mad schemes. I thought about him all the time, but I never said one word to him about it. My obsession with him went far beyond what Sirius and Remus felt. It was all-consuming. He was my drug, my addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk on Him

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Mugglenet Fanfiction in March 2012. I was talking with my friend Leah over lunch about the Marauders and why things happened the way they did. Our conclusion, naturally, was that all the Marauders were in love with James. I then had to share this interpretation with the world, and I think it came out pretty well.

I was in love with him.

Well, that was no great thing. We were all in love with him, really, and we all knew it.

Sirius was the first to admit it, one night when we had been hitting the Firewhiskey more than usual. It was just the two of us, sitting on the Astronomy tower with our ill-gotten alcohol. We had gotten to a point where we no longer cared about what we were saying.

“Who’s your new lust?” I’d asked drunkenly.

“New?” he repeated. “I don’t have a new one, just the one I’ve had forever.”

“Really?” I said. “Who is it?”

“James,” he said. “Who else?”

“Does he know?”

“No. And you’d sure as hell better not tell him.”

I didn’t tell. Because telling about Sirius would have only been telling about myself.

Remus never really admitted it, not really. Not out loud. But I knew he loved James too. I knew because of the way Remus always looked up when he entered a room. Whenever James was speaking, Remus hung on every word. Remus looked as though he was intoxicated by James. Drunk on him.

We were all drunk on him.

None of us could really say what it was about him that made us all act like that. He was charming and good-looking, sure, but so were a lot of other people. I didn’t even think about what he looked like. I just knew that I was in love with him, more than the others.

For Sirius, it was mostly lust, a fixation, something different from his usual fare. He loved James more than he had loved the endless parade of faceless girls who he had had over the years, but he knew it would never be so he didn’t push it. James was merely an ideal for Sirius, the impossible dream so to speak.

For Remus, it was a quiet love, a simple, child-like love. He didn’t really think about James on a sexual level, but he certainly loved James. James was a piece of art to Remus, something to be admired, but never touched. And Remus certainly never talked about it, not even when Sirius dropped all the annoying hints in the world about it.

For me, he was an obsession, a burning obsession, one that I could never let go of. I could never take my eyes off him, never not listen to anything he was saying. I followed him anywhere I could, agreed with everything he said, went along with all his mad schemes. I thought about him all the time, but I never said one word to him about it. My obsession with him went far beyond what Sirius and Remus felt. It was all-consuming. He was my drug, my addiction.

I might have been able to stand it if he hadn’t been so fixated on her. But of course he was. She was his addiction, his obsession. He was drunk on her.

Remus accepted that, of course. He had never even dreamed of anything more than what he already had with James.

“Doesn’t it bother you, just a little bit?” I asked one night, after she had finally said yes.

“Why would it?” Remus asked. “He loves her and she loves him. Isn’t that enough?”

Sirius wasn’t quite so accepting of the situation. “He’ll come out with a broken heart and enough curse scars to last a lifetime,” he said gloomily.

“What do you care?” Remus asked.

“Don’t we have enough broken hearts on her account?” Sirius asked.

It was true. We did have enough broken hearts because of Lily. All of us were suddenly with a love that was now not only ridiculous, but completely out of reach. We had never really believed that anything would come of our thoughts, but when he married her, it was over for all of us.

After their wedding, when they had gone off to live their blissful life, Sirius, Remus, and I went back to Sirius’s flat and started hitting the Firewhiskey. Hard.

We were getting drunk on him again.

Remus didn’t last long. He never did. He was passed out an hour later.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Sirius asked me.

“Yes,” I said. “It really bothers me. Why did he go for her of all people? She spent so much time saying no… he could have had anyone else.”

“Including you,” Sirius said.

“Or you,” I said back. “You love him too.”

“We all love him. But you were always the one who really wanted him.”

I shrugged. “A schoolboy crush.”

“A fucking obsession,” Sirius said. “Come on, Wormtail. You never even thought about anything else.”

He was right. I never did.

“It’s unhealthy, you know,” Sirius continued. “To obsess over someone like him. You should branch out. Find a new hobby.”

“And what you think is healthy? What Remus thinks?”

“Remus doesn’t…”

“He just doesn’t talk about it. But you know he does. We all do. You admitted to me once that you lust after him.”

“So I want to fuck him. So what? I want to fuck a lot of people.”

“Not as much as you want him.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Not of you. Just of her.”

Sirius shook his head. “No point, Wormtail. It’s over. Move on.”

I couldn’t.

I was drunk on him. Even after his marriage, even after his baby, I became intoxicated every time I saw him.

I suppose that’s why I was persuaded to go over to the dark side. I thought I could get rid of this obsession if I had the Dark Lord to help me.

It didn’t make any difference. I was still obsessed with him.

And then it all fell to pieces.

“You love him more than I do,” Sirius said. “Who better to protect him?”

I agreed without knowing what I was doing. I did love him. More than anything…

Or did I?

It was between his life and mine. Between my obsession and my existence.

And I knew what my choice was. It was better this way. I would no long obsess over a man I could never have, no longer get drunk every time he walked into a room, never feel that stab of jealousy every time his wife touched him.

So I betrayed him. And he died.

And I found out I didn’t love him. I just loved the idea of him.

And the idea of him is what remains in my mind.

Now, as I run far away, as I remember the angry words, the look in Sirius’s eyes, the pain in Remus’s voice, I know.

They loved him more. They weren’t drunk on him.

I still am.


End file.
